


Valiant Hearts Sing

by Heronfem



Series: Commissions [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Families of Choice, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 05:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6142351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heronfem/pseuds/Heronfem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Valo-kas prepare to send their healer to the Conclave, by which we mean there are a bunch of thrown snowballs and Shokrakar is Done with this nonsense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valiant Hearts Sing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Joeltheweirdguy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joeltheweirdguy/gifts).



> Title taken from Andraste 1.

Shokrakar was not a small woman in anyone's eyes, and towered above the team as they waited by the side of the tents in the frigid Frostbacks. Usually they didn't work so far to the east, but it had been a special request that was getting more special by the moment. Qalaba was closest to her, and looked up when she sighed in frustration.

“I don't like this,” she said quietly, and he looked back at the rest of the team. They were chatting and joking with each other, bundled up against the frozen mountain chill. Shokrakar had apparently decided that such things as cloaks were for mere mortals, and therefore decided to go with only a fuzzy vest. Qalaba, who was very warmly bundled in a fur lined cape, was in quiet awe of her ability. It was a sunny afternoon, and the light was bright. The trees were massive pines, and a cheery fire was burning in the middle of camp.

“Do you think something's wrong?” He asked, looking uncertainly up at her. “Being asked to extend a job like this isn't unusual, is it?”

“No, not really. It could be worse.” She gently ruffled his hair, grinning, but it was strained. “Just me being paranoid I guess. All those people in their fancy clothes, it's like a Par Vollen meeting but with less ropes. And less skin. And no decent food.”

“You always said you didn't like Par Vollen,” he said, stepping neatly to the side as Meraad went bowling past him and Kost chased after. “But you talk about the food a lot.”

“That's because no one here's ever heard of a spice, even if it whacked them in the face or tap danced on their mother,” Shokrakar said dryly, watching as Kost dumped a pile of snow on Meraad and then tackled him. “What are those two idiots doing?”

Qalaba smiled, watching as the two of them flailed about and wound up in a snow drift, Kaariss hurrying over to fuss and try and pull the pair of them out. “Playing.”

Shokrakar rolled her eyes, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I swear I'm just a baby sitter with an ax. Here's what we're going to do, all right? You're going to go in and liaise the _vashedan_ out of these people, figure out what they're going to do, and you're going to take care of the noble while doing it. Are you ready for that?”

He nodded, taking a deep breath and clutching his staff a little tighter. “I'll do my best for us all.”

She slapped his back, grinning. “Ah, Qalaba,” she said, pulling him into a one armed hug in a rare show of open fondness and ruffling his hair. “Bet you're excited to get into that Chantry, huh?”

He went red, looking down. “I- well, yes. It's just that I've never been in one, and this one's not exactly small. It's important, even, it's where Andraste's ashes are. There first time I get to go into a Chantry, and it's the _temple_.”

Shokrakar smiled down at him, a hint of pride on her face. “You've worked hard to get here,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “Only right that you're the one who gets to go in.”

He bit his lip to hide his excitement, and stumbled forward as a hefty arm dropped on his shoulder. Sata-kas grinned at him, which should have been terrifying given his very sharp teeth but wasn't since his hair was always dyed a bright, vibrant blue. Sata-kas liked color, and no one could quite figure out how, exactly, he was doing it.

“You get to go in?” Sata-kas demanded, excited. “Someone said you were going to be the one to do all the talking, is that true?” He looked up at Shokrakar, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. “Well?”

“Yeah, he's going with the moneybag,” she said, rolling her eyes as Meraad came running back with Kost in hot pursuit, holding a snowball. Sata-kas cheered, and Qalaba yelped as Sata-kas wrapped his arms around his waist and hefted him up. “Koslun's left ball, Sata, put him down! He's our only healer, dammit, don't break him.”

With exaggerated caution Sata-kas put him back down, laughing, and Qalaba couldn't help grinning up at Shokrakar. She seemed torn between terrible nerves and being happy for him, and Sata-kas noticed it too. “Aw, Shokrakar, don't worry. He's a big guy, he can handle himself. Knows what he's doing. He's got a good brain in those pretty clouds.”

“Clou- Oh,” Qalaba said, touching his hair. He supposed it did look like clouds sometimes, like the big, beautiful ones in summer. He felt oddly touched. 

Taarlok stomped over to them, shivering. He'd boasted about his strength against the cold and was now clearly eating his words. His beard, a great white thing that was always elegantly brushed out and kept pristine, was being buffeted about by the wind. The little charms woven into it clacked together as he planted himself in the huddle of Vashoth, massive mustache dancing as he twitched it side to side. “Blast this wretched cold weather, honestly. We're sending Qalaba?”

“Yeah!” Sata-kas punched Taarlok's arm, ignoring the look of annoyance that got sent his way. “And if they don't like it they can stick i-”

Qalaba quickly covered Sata-kas' mouth with his hands, flushing. “Stop that!” Sata-kas grinned, licking his hand to make him let go. He made a face, pulling his hands back and rubbing them on his robes. “Ugh, rude.”

“But funny.”

Kaariss swooped in, Kost and Meraad following behind and looking suitably chastened. Qalaba rolled his eyes as Kaariss looked him over, spreading his arms to show he was prepared and properly dressed. His nerves were singing, excitement building the more he waited to go inside. Kost gave him a thumbs up while Meraad whistled to tease him, and ducked when Katoh strode up beside him and swung for his horns.

“Be nice to the boy,” Katoh said sharply. “Unlike you two knuckleheads he's going to be doing the important part.”

“I just wanted to go into the Temple,” he admitted as Sata-kas slung an arm over his shoulder. “I didn't mind the rest of it. I don't know if they'll like me but I know that the one who hired us will at least listen to me and answer when I ask him questions.”

Shokrakar shifted uncomfortably. “I'm _still_ not thrilled about you being in there alone for some of the meetings. Remember, you can call on us for anything at all, and if you feel like you can't handle it for any reason I want you to switch out immediately. You'll be the main point on this, but some of the other kith will be there. I really don't like sending you in there on your own.”

“I'll be fine,” he said, rolling his eyes as Kost stuck a handful of snow down Kaariss' shirt. He raised his voice over the irate shouting, adding, “I'll have some time to reflect by myself, that'll be nice. It'll be quiet enough that I can pray without shouting to hear myself.” 

Shokrakar watched as Kost, Meraad, and Sata-kas broke away to gang up on Kaariss and Katoh, and rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, that _would_ be nice.”

Qalaba laughed, and felt a great warmth in his chest. _Soon_. Soon, he'd be on his way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and soon he'd be able to say he handled a job on his own, and soon he'd get to be _in_ Andraste's temple. This was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he grinned as he watched Katoh lob a snowball that got stuck on Meraad's horn. 

He was always going to remember this as the best of days.


End file.
